This book cover has it’s charms. It’s black with hot pink lettering. It’s the kind of book that sort of makes you feel self conscious if you’re reading it in public, but once you peel back the cover and dive in it’s like a wise older woman pulling up to give you sound advice on how to be the best sexually confident wife you can be. I bought this book at least a year or so ago, but never got the courage up to crack it open. I finally decided to and it’s taken me a good long while to finish it, but it’s been worth taking my time reading it.
The author, Shannon, goes over so many different topics about sex I blushed a number of times. I never thought I’d hear a Christian author talk about anal sex, creating a private husband and wife porno for their own viewing pleasure, getting away for a weekend filled with just sex. I felt like I could breath again and that not all Christian women are prudes or boring when it comes to such a deeply personal topic. Shannon wrote with humor, honesty and firmness at times.
I was a bit shy to admit I was reading this. Didn’t the title sound like I was needing major help? That rather than being a wild fun woman I was instead a frumpy wife who was clueless in how to please her husband? After confessing the title I was currently reading to a new friend I found out she sounded interested in it too and that it sounded like a very helpful book. Maybe I’m not the only one who could use a friendly written marital book on sex.
I would highly recommend this book to any wife who needs a little encouragement, or a lot of encouragement. You don’t have to be a Christian to read it. Shannon is sensitive and doesn’t preach at you. She even uses the word Higher Power occasionally. I’d even recommend husbands to read this book after their wives do since it does discuss ways in which couples can enhance their sexual life and sexual communication. I’m relieved and glad I chose to purchase this book. If only I’d read it sooner.
This is a video that I did a while back on my Trends TV you tube page. I’m also known as Trends for those of y’all that don’t know that’s my stage name for when I do hip hop music. You can check out my music here www.youtube.com/trends
Check out this clip below and let me know what you think
Also check out this other clip this one is about Hot chicks being insecure. Check this one out too.
Mr. Locario
For relationship advice, free stuff and to get my books click here
I don’t think it’s any secret that, before Gradon tamed me, I was a slut.
Actually, I prefer the British term, “slag.” It sounds more like something one would find in a quarry, as if I was a lovely piece of granite, just waiting to be laid across your countertop.
In any case, I lost my virginity when I was 11 and before you wonder, let me hasten to add that no, I was not molested. It was with another 11 year old and we were both VERY willing participants.
We showed each other all kinds of things, in all kinds of inappropriate places – church, Boy Scout camp (be prepared, I always say), airplane hangers, roofs, basements, parks, in the middle of the road (we were into the Beatles), school and yes, ladies and gentlemen, across some of your countertops.
At some point, we discovered that we weren’t the only two boys out in the cotton fields of the Bootheel having a gay ol’ time. There were others. Lots of others. And I figured, Why eat the same thing for dinner for the rest of my life when there’s all this variety? I’m young, incredibly fucking dumb and full of… joie de vivre, so why not taste all that the buffet has to offer?
I guess I was 12 or so by that point, and that’s when I started really enjoying life. I did it with every willing participant I met and believe me, there were A LOT of willing participants. I’ve always been surprised that there were so many, considering that (a) we were in the middle of no-fucking-where and (b) I was built like a Butterball turkey with four toothpicks stuck in it, but no one ever complained, so even though I was disgustingly fat, boys still wanted to screw around. I guess beggars can’t be choosers.
Getting my driver’s license opened up even more opportunities for me, because I could now (a) screw in my car and (b) screw guys from neighboring towns. To this day, I refuse to own a car with anything but leather interior because of what I did to the interior of every car I owned as a teenager (I’ll leave those details to your imaginations). To whomever has my first Miata, sorry about the stains on the roof – TOTALLY not my fault.
And don’t think for once second that I changed my ways once I was a member of the United States Air Force. If anything, I only refined previously acquired techniques, offering many an airman a safe port in a long storm (I should note that most – all but two, in fact – have since come out of the closet and are enjoying their queer lives).
By the time I was living in New Orleans, I had dispensed with any pretense at all, using one of two trusty pickup lines. If I thought a guy was merely fuckable (i.e., he had no more than three prosthetic limbs and at least a weak pulse), I would walk up and say, “Hey. Wanna fuck?”
If I thought the guy was really cute, I’d accidentally-on-purpose bump into him and mumble, “Did you tell Harpo to beat on me?” á la Oprah in “The Color Purple.” If he laughed, then I’d sleep with him. If he frowned 0r just looked at me like he didn’t get it, I’d tell him he was culturally illiterate and move on.
But that was many, many years ago. I’m old now. And dammit, I’m tired. These days, if I see a cute guy other than Gradon, I sniff and say something like, “Yeah, but he’s not as cute as he thinks he is,” knowing damn well he is, but who has the time, energy and money for the chase anymore?
All of this brings me to a very interesting conversation I had via Facebook over the holiday with an old lover and friend. I should note that I was not originally going to change the names of the parties mentioned herein, but Gradon insisted that I do so, reminding me, “Bitch, we don’t have enough liability insurance for all the people that are gonna sue us over that damn blog. Your family’s probably already gonna take everything we have and there won’t be anything left for these guys to fight over, anyway, so just change their fucking names.”
So, for the purposes hereof, I’ll use the names “Rick,” “Mark” and “Steve” (because, as all Southern men know, all gay men are named Rick, Mark or Steve, and all gay men have track lightin’) and “Tom,” “Dick” and “Harry” (because I needed a second cliché).
Facebook’s neat little chat window popped up, and it was Rick, a friend and lover from ages ago. After a few niceties were exchanged, Rick said that he’d often thought of me (NOTE: I didn’t save the chat transcript, so please pardon any poetic license, but I promise the spirit of the conversation as herein relayed is true).
“I’ve thought about you a lot through the years, too, Rick. I should have moved to Memphis with you when you invited me.” When Rick left the Bootheel to head to Tennessee, he asked me to go with him, but I chose to stay, I think for my job at the time. “But everything happens for a reason, I suppose.”
“Mark is on Facebook. He’s on my Friend list.”
Mark was another former lover whom I adored, but it was never meant to be. We dated for a week, and after seven days, Mark told me he was in love with me. I was definitely in major like with him, but love? I didn’t love anybody when I was 19 except Madonna.
“Really? I haven’t seen him in years. I’ll have to look him up.” (Mark is happy, healthy and partnered and grew up to be a great guy, by the way.)
“Steve is on here, too. You remember, Steve, don’t you?”
Uhm, I thought. This is odd. Steve and I also shared a brief and sordid past. “Sure, I remember Steve. How’s he doing?”
“He’s fine. He’s on my friend list, too. So is Tom, and so is Dick and so is Harry.”
I blinked. Dick and Harry, I definitely remembered. Great teenage sex, but I don’t remember any sort of love connection. Who the hell was Tom?
I paused to look at Rick’s friend list and Tom’s picture triggered my memory. Oh, THAT Tom. Now, I remember Tom. Tom was great in the sack and very, very sweet and I thought we would date for a long time until he did something that totally freaked me out.
He peed. Sitting down. Every time. My immature mind couldn’t face such unabashed femininity. We were men, for God’s sake! We pee standing up! We piss willy-nilly and let the urine fall where it may. We shake it and hike our legs to put it back where it belongs.
I remember leaving his apartment and stopping at a pay phone to call my surrogate sister for some advice.
“Courtney, the strangest thing just happened.”
“You topped?”
“No, bitch. Tom peed.”
“Wow. That is totally weird.”
“Sitting down.”
She waited a beat. “Dump him.”
“Really?”
“Think about this: does he shit standing up?”
But back to my chat with Rick. “Oh. Okay,” I responded, wondering why Rick was bringing up this parade of former fag shags?
I had become extremely uncomfortable. As usual, Gradon rode to the rescue, this time by walking in the door with our youngest niece in tow. I quickly said good-bye and signed off, but didn’t stop thinking about it.
What was Rick trying to say? Had I hurt all these boys? It was never my intent, and if I did so, then I am truly sorry and I hereby apologize.
Was I young, incredibly immature and, as Aerosmith sang, F-I-N-E, fine (fucked-up, insecure, neurotic and emotional)? You betcha.
Do I regret my trysts with these guys? No, not at all. Each was special and wonderful in its own way, like sex is supposed to be when you’re a horny country boy looking for love in all the wrong places.
And I hope everyone else had as much fun as I did. Because I did have fun. In the middle of all the growing up bullshit, I had a lot of fun. Hell, I’m still having fun, it’s just that I’m having fun with Gradon these days.
And I’ve learned something I didn’t know how to do then: I can laugh at myself now. In fact, I spend a lot of my time laughing at myself, because I do a lot of really dumb shit.
And, on occasion, I’ve been known to pee sitting down.
Well, the whole “no orgasm until Christmas” thing didn’t work out – long story, but suffice it to say that Mad Baker decided it was “not as pleasurable” for him. I’ll admit I didn’t complain to much (hey, more orgasms are nothing to complain about, right?).
However, he did taunt me with subtle (and not so subtle) reminders of what I could expect on Christmas evening…all the new toys he had to play with, and how he was REALLY going to enjoy himself. His voice would deepen as he hinted at what he was going to do to my helpless body as I was bound…and I would shiver at the sound of his “dom-voice”.
The night finally arrived…and at that point I was so nervous I seriously considered getting slightly drunk beforehand! I knelt on my pillow, meditating through my ritual with my eyes closed as he prepared the ropes.
When my answers pleased him, he bound my hands in front of me with a two-column tie – and used the trailing ends of the rope to pull me to the bed. The ropes were strung under the mattress, one running along the center of the length of the bed, the other under the width – although that length of rope was near the foot of the bed.
I knelt on the bed with my knees right on the end, my body centered over the rope running down the middle. He used that rope to tie my bound hands to the bed – this way I could not rise up my body or change the angle my arms were held in. The ends of the last rope were tied securely to each ankle, forcing my legs apart so that my pink bits were exposed for his ministrations.
The blindfold was missing, so he took the headband I wear in winter and pulled it down over my eyes, blocking all light and some sound, as it was over my ears as well. My play collar was next, and every time I whimpered or cried out it tightened around my neck.
He pulled out the unknown toys, my Christmas presents, and arranged them – I could hear him but could not see what he was doing or what he had gotten. The anticipation was making me wet!
With the suddenness that is his trademark, Master struck me on my cunt – the feel of the sting was familiar, and I realized that he was starting with the old floggers before working his way up to the new ones.
The light flogger worked my cunt over, and I swear I actually felt myself dripping! The rubber flogger then replaced it, and struck my ass, thighs, and the soles of my feet, which made me cry out with the different sensation – which increased my arousal.
Then I felt an entirely new sensation – whatever it was didn’t sting like the flogger, but rather felt sharper, more intense, and much, much larger than the thin flogger I was used to! I yelped and squirmed a bit, but quickly settled down and signaled my readiness by lowering my head and pushing my ass as high into the air as I could.
THWACK
THWACK
THWACK
I shoved my head into the mattress to muffle my cries, and decided that this was a serious toy compared to the ones I was used to! But I was determined to take whatever he could dish out, and I determinedly held my position – not that the ropes gave me much of a choice, mind you. But every time I DID struggle, the ropes tightened around my wrists and ankles, which drove my libido even higher.
I desperately wanted something – ANYTHING – in my cunt at that moment!
He eventually switched to a different toy……
THWOCK!!!
I couldn’t help it – I screamed and jerked my ass away from the impact, shuddering in sudden fear. His low chuckle was my only reply, and against my survival instinct, against my will, against everything I had, I still lowered my head and raised my ass for another strike.
I felt his hands rub over my cheeks, approving of my obedience. Then he pulled back and hit again – and again – and again. I felt a thrill of cold fear – yet strangly my body reacted to the fear by growing even more wet, swelling up so that my labia separated on it’s own, exposing my clit.
He went through the rest of the toys, which each had a different sensation, each raising different reactions. At one point I either was deep in subspace or he was hitting lighter, because the impacts became less painful and my cries subsided. (When I sink into subspace, I am incapable of making sound – my vocal cords no longer obey my brain – in fact it is like the higher functions of my brain disconnect entirely during that time.)
I came back to awareness when I felt the cold lube being poured over my ass. His fingers prodded me, testing and carressing, and I felt myself relax a bit to allow him entry – but it seemed that was not what he had in mind this time.
I heard him open a box – a few long seconds passed – and then something cold touched my anus and pressed, sliding in. I gasped in pain – bad pain this time – and used my safeword for the first time in months.
“Ow ow ow ow ow” I gasped and squirmed, trying to relax the muscles that had immediately spasmed upon the penetration of the cold…whatever it was! The pain from that was incredible, it felt like my entire lower intestinal tract had clenched and spasmed.
Mad Baker gently but firmly pulled out the toy, and waited while I bent as far as the ropes would let me, riding the pain, waiting for it to pass. As soon as I was able to speak, I explained what had happend to a very puzzled (and concerned) Master. He chuckled in relief at my explaination, and then pushed the cold toy up my cunt and told me that I could warm it up that way. I hid my grin by burying my face into the mattress.
He went back to flogging me while I warmed up the new toy, and as he did I clenched my cunt tighter around the toy, trying to figure out what it was. It was a small toy, felt round to me, with some kind of handle that stuck out of the body? And it was incredibly heavy for its small size – and I concluded that it must be a metal toy. That explained the coldness as well as the heaviness.
When it had sufficiently warmed up, he inserted the new plug into my ass again, this time with no pain and no drama.
Then he left the room!
I knelt there on the edge of the bed. “Sir?”…..”Sir!” I turned my head in a slight panic as I thought I heard the front door of our apartment open. Soon he came back into the room and announced that he would be sharing me this evening!
I shuddered at the thought of a total stranger gazing at my spread legs and exposed cunt – and for some strange reason, the first thought that ran through my mind was the shame that I had not shaved my puss in over a week! Sure I was letting it grow back in, but it was at that stage where it looked unkept.
Then common sense prevailed….Mad Baker was not the kind to bring in a new partner without making sure I was okay with it first. With my history of gang rape, it was important to not spring something like that on me…especially with the anniversary of the rape looming a mere week ahead. No, he was just playing with my head.
(and why, oh why, did that realization disappoint me so badly?)
He began to whip me again, striking harder and harder – and I thought to myself “If I don’t feel a cock in my cunt pretty soon I am going to explode!”
Finally I felt him enter me from behind – and immediately noticed that THIS WAS NOT MASTER’S COCK! It was thinner, for one thing – although about the same length. I shivered and orgasmed the moment I realized that he did indeed have another in the room with us.
I climaxed over and over again, while an arguement went on in my head – the rational part of me insisting that he had not invited a second to join us, it wasn’t logical – the second voice arguing “I don’t know this cock! It’s a strange cock! Oh my God!!!”
I was distantly aware that I was squirting all over the person penetrating me, and that I couldn’t stop coming for more than a couple of seconds.
Eventually I became aware that the pounding had stopped – and that a new cock, a familiar and comfortable cock, was entering me – and I again started to come uncontrollably.
I lost track of what happened for a while there – sinking farther into subspace. I was drawn out of that lovely place again when I felt something even bigger entering me – fingers wiggled and my cunt was stretched to the limit, and then beyond, and with disbelief I felt his entire hand force its way into my cunt.
I came…
and came again….
and came a third time with a scream. Finally with the fourth orgasm he withdrew his hand, and came himself all over my ass and back. I shuddered through one last climax at the sensation of his hot cum landing on my skin.
I came back to myself slowly, tipping to my side and lying there on the bed, utterly spent. Mad Baker removed the ropes, blindfold, collar…..I was only distantly aware of it all. When I was sensible again he showed me the new toys. The incredibly painful one turned out to be a thick wooden paddle, and the one that had stung with strange sensation was a leather strap. The rest were an assortment of canes.
The new metal plug was a medium-sized NJOY, and I decided I liked it very much!
And I discovered that there really WASN’T another partner in the room – my logical assessment had been right. How had he made his cock feel smaller in girth? A tight condom! I laughed with him over my initial confusion.
So, that was the tale of my kinky Christmas….what did you, dear reader, do for the holiday?
(including a pic of all the toys used on me last night – and a second pic with a close up of the three most memorable new toys!)
A Facebook friend told me about this book and mentioned that I might enjoy it – so I contacted the author and got a copy of the book.
I may be very open minded about sex – but I am concerned about teens and the things they are bombarded with every day. I may sound old – but I remember when kids, could be kids. They weren’t flooded with sexual messages everywhere they looked.
Sure there was sex in the music, the movies etc – but not like it is now. And, we had to get creative to send sexy and suggestive messages. As an example, when I was a teenager, our parents insisted that my boyfriend and I were “forbidden” to see each other and to even talk most of the time. So, we worked out a system where a friend of his brought me messages. It worked beautifully.
These days teens have email, chatrooms, instant messaging, cell phones, text messages, social networks and so many other options. But we have all heard of the things that can happen with these technological advances. It seems to me that few teens have the chance to be teens - they are pushed into adult situations by the media, their peers and many other things.
So – how do young people handle this “hyper” sexual culture? I think parents, other teens and anyone else who cares about teens need to read this book. It contains personal experiences from a wide variety of teens in their own words. This book contains the good, the bad and the ugly about this “easy access culture”.
Shannon T Boodram – accepted pieces written by a variety of young people about their experiences with sex in their teens. Some are narratives and some are poems – but they all tell very personal stories to share their experiences.
Chapter 1 – Hookups That Fell Down (about hookups)
Chapter 2 – And Then I Saw Stars (about positive sexual experiences)
Chapter 3 – Haven’t Been Quite Right Since That Night…. (about physical consequences)
Chapter 4 – When No! Loses All Meaning (about date rape)
Chapter 5 – Save Your Cherry… or Banana (about abstinence)
Each of these chapters is broken up into several different sections. There is an introduction, a list of possible questions and answers about the chapter content, and a list of questions to ask yourself about the information in the chapters.
This book needed to be written. In case anyone has any doubts – times have changed for everyone, but times have changed much more for teens and we need to understand what they are facing and what they are doing to help teens that we care about.
I highly recommend this book – the insights are very revealing and often disturbing. I’ll also warn you that reading this book will bring back memories for each of us – that first kiss, that first sexual experience, yearning for someone when we weren’t sure if we were ready for sex, having sex and then realizing it wasn’t right for us, learning from our mistakes and our triumphs and much more.
Nothing says F-You like cropping someone out of a picture
… while relationships may not be the answer, sleeping with just anyone isn’t it (the answer) either. Better yet is the understanding that friendship is more important then sex. Sex is not worth losing a good friend over
I know when I was younger (19- a few months ago) that some of my older (27+) friends told me I would reach this point, but I never really believed them. Time heals all wounds though …
This hardly means that I want a relationship or that I could even successfully manage to be in one – that remains to be seen. (enter cliche about commitment)
Of course there are times when my convictions waiver, like when I meet a nice boy appears to be “boyfriend material.” I’ll smile randomly instead of frowning at strangers, I’ll compliment others more readily, I might even go out of my way to help a stranger. Then again – I do these things anyway.
Liking someone rarely has good effects on a person. At least ones that last. For example, you date someone with “issues”. During your time together you (and even they) might believe all these issues have been resolved. The minute the break up happens, they’re off snorting coke off some 5′6 high school drop out’s counter and listening to techno.
Often times my cynicism is mistaken for bitterness. Even people that have wronged me in ways that don’t deserve forgiveness, I rarely can stay mad at anyone for long amounts of time. I believe this stems from my childhood…
When I was little I would watch myself in the mirror and manipulate my emotions. I wanted to know what each emotion looked like. When I would be sad and crying, I would run to the bathroom, step on my little rubbermaid stool and watch myself until I had no tears left. Sometimes, if I felt I had not gained enough knowledge – I would poke myself in the eye so that I could continue learning.
[side note: My old house was two stories and when I was upset I would whine/sob into the heater vent in my room because I believed that it would travel through the entire house and make my mom feel bad. This did not work. Just like the time a few years ago, when I put gummy bears up my nose and flashlight in my mouth to see if colored light would come out. That did not work either]
I will add now that I nothing makes me smile with such uninhibited joy then when people talk about how they can read other people. There are of course those that are very good at it – the majority of people though, are not.
Now such I’m a narcissist I’m going to admit, I love when people “shrink” me.
This past weekend for example I was categorized as a “sheltered” and “liberal” girl that “never wants to lose control” and is “very shy.” Let’s just start with that shall we?
1. Sheltered: I can see this. I mean I grew up in middle class America. I lived in safe neighborhoods and attended safe schools. I have never experienced a horrific tragedy. All right – sheltered. I can see that.
2. Liberal: I wouldn’t say that I am entirely Conservative, but I certainly consider myself an Elite Democrat. My family is from the South and Scarlett O’Hara is basically my role model for life. I love fried chicken and cornbread mush with milk. People from the North are called Yankee’s and no, a Confederate flag does not represent white power.
3. Never wants to lose control: Am I ever in control? Sober or intoxicated I am not a person that always thinks before I act. This has proven to be both positive and negative in my life. Usually though, if it’s within reason and there isn’t a chance of me losing a limb … I’ll try it.
4. Very shy: There are times when I can be. For example, when I go someplace unfamiliar I like to take a few minutes to assess the situation and judge (I mean, form opinions) of my surroundings and those present.
So … was random drunk Cooper (that was his name), right? I suppose on a basic level, yes he was. Wow – I feel enlightened. I feel that I already know myself better.
Last night was an emotional roller coaster ride. The twelve days of fellatio was great. I did not get to do it most nights, but the nights that I did it, I did it well. I found out some things that he really likes and some things that he doesn’t like as much. I plan to continue the sexual journey into the new year. We have been finding new ways to please each other and I was not sure that was possible. He is really in tune with what I want and need lately. He is starting to make me feel like I am running behind. I can please my man but now I feel like he is able to please me even more. I know it isn’t a contest but I like to win especially when it comes to matters of the heart and the bedroom. Stan sure knows how to keep a girl challenged. I have to brainstorm ways to step my game up. In the meantime, I am going to enjoy all the goodness he is bringing me.
At times, I want to just strip and lie naked with several men. The moment I let that thought in my mind, I am all excited and want to not let the vision go away. But the very next second, in walks my rational self and I know the naked vision is a figment of my unbridled lust and passion…
If only lust were thrown in an abyss far far away from Earth, I will have been a monk – a nice gentle holy monk – by now…
So I know I need to post about my lovely turquoise bathroom and I will but first I wanted to do post about Lovely Mujer #1 post. After getting her news about Chlamydia, my friend called to tell me about it and tell me to wake up basically. Though I have a boyfriend and we are monogamous, it is still not safe for us to be having sex without a condom. I understand why people do it. It feels great to have skin on skin contact, but in today’s society, there are things worse than pregnancy. I have not been using condoms regularly but it is the best and safest bet while I am still dating my boyfriend. Not only will it protect against pregnancy but it saves my life and his (though I don’t plan to be cheating on him and I don’t think he plans to cheat on me. But like Lovely Mujer #1 says you can’t swear for anyone only yourself. And then sometimes you are capable of surprising yourself. So the point is use condoms. This means oral sex as well. Because the heebeegeebies can spread via oral sex too. On that note I am not here to preach but here to give you a way to protect yourself. As you know in the product review before I did pregnancy prevention this is going to be about condoms. Most people don’t like to use condoms because the have a funny smell and they are uncomfortable especially for men with larger penises. I know that my boyfriend has this problem. The selection of large condoms available at the drug store are limited to Magnum and Magnum XL. While these are larger they are still slightly uncomfortable. So I have been doing research on the internet about condoms for large men and I came across this website: http://www.condomdepot.com/
This is a really cool website. It is very organized according to brand, style, and size. They also sell lubrication (which is a wonderful, wonderful thing), toys and they have great great reviews. They also sell in bulk (for you active, active bunnies and they sell batches that are mix with a variety of condoms. More importantly it is so easy to purchase online and it is discrete. And the most important of all SHIPPING IS FREE HAHAHAHAHAHA YES. After I got of the phone with my wonderful friend and the wake up call she gave me I found this website I had found it before but didn’t feel the need to order, now I do. I ordered on the 19th of December. I ordered the Trustex Extra Large Condoms. They were $6.00 for 12, not bad with free shipping. They are wide, long and thin and I am looking forward, to using them. Free shipping takes about 4-7 days so I should receive it sometime around the 30th. I won’t be able to use them to some days later. But I will let you guys know if the condoms are good and if the site is really reliable.
Once again, thanks to my friend, I woke up. I would love to not use them I wish this was a perfect world but it is not. My boyfriend is on board (not so much for preventing disease as he doesn’t see himself as a cheater and doesn’t see me as one either but he is all about preventing pregnacy so point is he is going to use them). Use the condoms and also ask about your lover’s sexual history and even if you think it is crazy go to Planned Parenthood and get tested together and dont have sex till you get your results. Sex is a nice thing but we must also be safe. Okay kiddos.
There is the satisfying crunch of crisp, freshly fallen snow beneath our boots as we walk through the empty forest. It’s beautiful, branches lined in white powder and deer flitting between the trees startled by our intrusion. We wend our way up the steep hills made slick with ice. Grabbing each other as we slip so we pull the other down with us. There is no point in just one of us getting all cold!
We finally reach the top of the hill and look out onto the stunning view. He stands behind me and slides his arms around me, pressing his cheek against mine, helping thaw out my frozen face. I spin around to face him and lean up to kiss his lips, pressing my body against him to keep warm. The cold is getting to us again so he suggests that we move on. Taking my hand he leads me to what looks vaguely like a path but the only tracks on it are that of a deer. We are soon sinking into the deep drifts, ice forming along the bottoms of our dreams. Soon we are far from any path. He looks around as I catch up with him and catches hold of me. He kisses me deeply and backs me carefully up against a tree. He pulls of a glove and slides his icy hands into my jeans, remembering that I’m thongless, until he is stroking my clit.
I’m suprised, shocked and now soaking wet with pleasure. I sink slightly onto his hand as i pull his jacket collar bringing his lips harder against mine. He brings his fingers up to my lips, offering me a brief lick before he sucks them into his mouth savouring the taste of me. The tree is suprisingly comfortable against my back as long as I’m careful not to move too quickly to either side where the branches are sticking out dangerously. My hands reach under his jacket and I grope against the crotch of his jeans, feeling him get harder beneath my touch. I pull down his fly and curl my hand around his cock. It feels boiling hot beneath my touch and I feel him jump beneath my freezing fingers. I want a better feel so I undo his belt and button getting a firm grasp as I rub his cock, fondle his balls and kiss his lips hard. We both keep our eyes peeled for the sight of another person in the frozen wonderland.
We are getting hotter and hotter, though our feet are becoming numb, and our touch becomes more wild and our kiss more frenzied. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out one of the presents I had got him earlier. He slides the vibrator down my jeans and presses is against my clit as his fingers probe inside of me. He slips it inside of me and i sink downwards into a crouch and take his hot, hard cock into my mouth. I start to suck hard on his cock, deep throating him and playing with his balls still. He unzips his coat to get a better look. I run a finger along the crease of his bum and then work may way into him. I hear his gasp and feel his cock throb in my mouth as I do this.
He pulls me up roughly and reaches back into my jeans and he kisses me ferociously. He turns the vibrator on full and rubs my clit hard as I sink further down the tree, soon my legs are shaking as I succumb to an incredible orgasm.
I catch my breath and reach down for the vibrator and run it along his shaft and balls. He is gasping as I push the vibrator into him. Suddenly he pulls my jeans down just my bum cheeks. He turns me around, bends me over and pushes me against the tree. I feel his cock press against me, I catch my breath as it pulses inside of me. Soon he is thrusting into me. He is fucking me hard and fast as I hold onto the tree branches for support. If it wasn’t for the icy wind against my bare thighs we would have kept this up for much longer. But both of us soon gave in to the cold. We pack ourselves away, though continue kissing hard in disbelief of having just done this. Knowing that we hadn’t finished with each other just yet…just had to wait for a more suitable location….
Stand aside. Be a witness. Remember this word ’witness’. This is one of the key words in the search for spirituality. If you can understand this word and practice it, you don’t need anything else. Even this one key will open all the doors of paradise. This is a master key. Any lock can be opened by it. What does it mean to stand aside? When sex arises in you, you get identified with it. Then, when you have moved through the sex act, depression sets in, because you hoped so much and nothing has happened.
You longed too much, you expected too much, and nothing has happened. The whole thing has just been a fraud. You feel betrayed, deceived. Then repentance sets in and you start thinking in anti-sex terms. You start thinking how to be brahmacharya, how to be a celibate.
You think in terms of how to be a monk; you go against sex. Then you get identified with that ’anti’ attitude.
Witnessing means that when sex arises, stand aside and look at it. Don’t get identified. Don’t say, ”I have become sex.” Say, ”Sexual desire has arisen in me. Now I must observe it.” Don’t be for it and don’t be against it. Remain quiet and calm – just an observer. That doesn’t mean to suppress it, because suppression wiD not allow you to know what it is. Don’t suppress it. Suppression means that you are identified with the ’anti’ attitude.
Remember this: if you suppress, you are identified with the ’anti’ attitude. Don’t suppress, don’t get identified. Allow it to happen. Don’t be afraid; just wait and watch. Move in the sex act but with a watchful eye, knowing well what is happening and allowing it to happen. Not disturbing it, not suppressing it – allowing it to become manifest in its totality, but standing aside as if you are watching someone else.
The act will move to its peak. Go with it, but always standing by the side. Know whatsoever is happening in detail. Be alert; don’t lose awareness. Then, from the peak, you will start falling down and the ’anti’ attitude will set in. Be alert again. Don’t get identified with the ’anti’ attitude. Look at what is happening: the wave has gone up to a peak; now the wave is falling down. Sex is the wave arising. brahmacharya, the ’anti’ attitude toward sex, is the wave falling down.
Be aware, be alert. Don’t be for or against; don’t condemn; don’t make any judgement. Don’t be a judge; just be a witness. Don’t say, ”This is good. That is bad.” Don’t say anything. Just be alert and watch what is happening. Be true to the facts; don’t give any interpretation. That’s what witnessing means.
If you can be a witness to sex, and to the anti-sex attitude, you will come to a great understanding. That understanding will tell you that sex and anti-sex are two poles of one wave. They are not really opposite to one another. They are just the rising and falling down of the same wave. They are one, so there is nothing to choose. If you choose one you have already chosen the other, because it is part of it, the hidden part of it. If you choose one you have already chosen the other because the other cannot be separated from it. They are one, so there is no choice. Then, choicelessness happens to you.
That choicelessness is the path of victory. Now you don’t choose; there is nothing to choose. And a miracle happens: when you don’t choose, both fall down. Sex and brahmacharya both disappear and for the first time you are not in their clutches, for the first time you are not in the hold of the opposites. Witnessing is the beginning, and witnessing is the end. The first step and the last step are one.
Witnessing is the means and witnessing is the goal. Then the fight goes on, but you are not the warrior. Now the fighting is on a different level. What is that level? Now, sex and anti-sex are both present to you simultaneously. This simultaneous presence of the opposites is the fight. They fight with each other, and you remain a witness. Because they are opposites, anti-poles, they destroy each other completely and both disappear. They are of the same
strength and the same energy. They cut each other, they negate each other.
This is the fight. But you are not the warrior; you are just a witness. You are just looking from
without: a watcher on the hills. Down in the valley the fight will go on, but now you are just a watcher on the tower. You just look down and you know they are fighting; the opposites are fighting. But they negate each other, because they are of the same strength.
Remember this: only a very deeply sexual person can become a brahmacharya. Much sexual
desire can be converted into brahmacharya. If you are just ordinarily sexual you cannot become a brahmacharya because to become a brahmacharya much energy is needed. And the opposite energies are always equivalent, so only very deeply sexual persons become brahmacharyas. Ordinary persons, with ordinary, natural sex, never move to that extreme. They cannot. The energy to move comes from sex. Opposite energies are equivalent.
You need not fight; you need not take part from this side or that side. That is the way of defeat. Just remain aside, get out of the circle – be a witness. It is difficult, because the mind wants to choose; the mind always chooses. Mind is the chooser because, without choosing, there will be no mind; you will fall out of the mind. That’s why it is so difficult not to choose.
But they have made a choice. They have decided that sexuality is bad and brahmacharya is good.”If I become a witness will I become brahmacharya, will I become celibate?” They are missing the whole point. I am saying, ”Don’t choose,” and they have already chosen. They want to use witnessing as an instrument for their choice. But you cannot use witnessing that way.
The man was suffering from sex. Everyone is suffering because of sex. The suffering has gone so deep that you don’t only suffer because of your own sexuality; you suffer because of others’ sexuality also. This seems to be madness. You suffer because of your own sexuality and you suffer because of others’ sexuality also, because of what others are doing.
Enough misery can be created by your own sexuality. Why be concerned with others? But that misery doesn’t seem to be enough for you so you go on collecting what others are doing: who is doing wrong and who is being good. Who are you to decide? He was suffering because of what everyone else was doing. The real problem must be within you. You have not yet come to terms with your sexuality, that is the problem. Why suffer because of others? Why create other problems? Just to escape from your own problems? Just to be occupied? Who has appointed you to be a policeman? Why waste your life? You must be deeply sex-obsessed; that’s why you are concerned with others.”
There is no need of brahmacharya when sexuality disappears. It is part of the same game. When the disease has disappeared, what is the use of the medicine? You will throw the medicine with the diseaseThe unconscious choice remains: sex must disappear. Then you cannot be a witness. Witnessing means no choice, choiceless awareness. This is one of the most fundamental keys for all the diseases of the human mind.
Ashlynn Brooke (born August 14, 1985 in Choctaw, Oklahoma) is an American pornographic actress and feature dancer. Prior to becoming an adult film actress in 2006, she worked at a used car dealership near Oklahoma City for over three years. She became an exclusive contract performer with New Sensations / Digital Sin in 2007,and in 2009 she began directing and writing scripts.
2007 Adultcon Top 20 Adult Actresses
2008 F.A.M.E. Award – Favorite Breasts
2009 AVN Award – Best Continuing Video Series Ashlynn Goes to College
2009 AVN Award – Best Interactive DVD My Plaything: Ashlynn Brooke[
2009 AVN Award – Best New Series Ashlynn Goes to College
Set in London in the build up to Christmas following 8 different couples and showing the different types of love that is formed in different situations.
Now I am such a massive fan of this film and love it a lot, however on my first viewing I was not so sure. I found that it really is one of those films you have to watch a few times to really pick up little things about the different characters and storylines, as a lot of things happen which you have to follow. Showing us the different people in the 4 week build up to Christmas.
Each time you watch it, depending on your mood you may have a different couple or situation being your favorite on that viewing to another time of watching. I think that is one of the best things about this film, at different times you can relate to a different couple and it be very nice or very hard to watching depending on your own life. If you can relate to different characters.
A school Christmas show is included with a nativity play . . . including a lobster ?!?! If you have seen the film you will understand that is an amusing part. Said by the wonderful Emma Thompson, who really is just fantastic in this film and involved in a scene which will really break your heart . . . even if your made of stone!!!
The brilliance of this film is that it can easily make you laugh, cry and get the Christmas spirit all at the same time. All different types of love are shown, unrequited, mutual, family (brother/sister, father/son), friendship, sex etc. Some of it is lovely, some sad, some very cheesy and some just so cute. Which I think is why it all works so well, moving from story to story and having them crossover at different times so you have a variety and not just one certain theme throughout. Especially as you may not like one part but totally love another storyline.
With being set in London and Richard Curtis being the writer/director as you can imagine this is a very British film with British humour throughout. The Billy Mack “Ant or Dec” moment will probably not be funny anywhere else other than the UK, as it is kind of inside joke that people do not know which one is which. I have even watched this with the cast commentary on the DVD and actually found it rather amusing and informative about behind the scenes stuff, for example that one of the jokes was originally written for Hugh Grant in Four Weddings and a Funeral.
My favorite character in this film has to be Billy Mack (Bill Nighy) who plays an ageing pop star who has dealt with a drug problem and trying to get back on top with a Christmas number one with the cheesy “Christmas is All Around” originally “Love is All Around”. I just found him really hilarious and started my love of Bill Nighy. Another amusing thing about the song was that they actually released it in 2003 into the charts!
Look out for more posts on Love Actually, taking an in depth look at the couples/pairings in the movie over the next few days.
Do you LOVE this film?
What were your impressions on the first viewing? and what do you think after more than one viewing? (If you have seen it more than once)
I am going to finish this with a cheap pun . . . I actually love this film.
What a great couple of weeks to be a dentist. Firstly the Incumbent Mrs Woods decides to launch Tiger’s Iphone at her hubby’s choppers and Tiger gets a hole in one. It went straight down the middle, as Bing used to sing. The toothless Tiger will presumably be on Medicare and is, as we speak, sitting in a smelly waiting room along with six miserable kids and their scoulding mothers, , patiently waiting for the injection to kick in. I guess he’ll be pouring over copies of Punch and Readers Digest while listening to ‘Diddy’ David Hamilton on the dentist’s radio. Well, that’s what used to happen if I visited my dentist (called, I kid you not, Mr Nash!). Friends will know it didn’t happen that often.
Not to be outdone by this precision assault on the molars, a man described as having ‘mental problems’ hurls a small metal paperweight in the shape of Milan Cathedral in the general direction Snr Berlusconi, breaking two of Il Duce’s incisors. Must have been a bit of a blow to Silvio, as he’d only just finish paying for them. He now has the choice of affording a new set of pearly-whites, or a ten minute knee-trembler with that naughty from Naples.
It’s a pity Berlo’s assailant appears to be a nutter, cos my opinion of the Italian people would have sky-rocketed had it turned out that the Cathedral Chucker was none other than, say, the head of the Civil Service, or Cardinal Fang or a manager at the local Benetton. You really want him to be completely sane and an upstanding member of society cos when loonies start throwing shit around the powers at be dismiss it as nothing more than the act of a lone fruitcake, though this is hardly Oswald and Dealey Plaza, is it? I would imagine when he gets released from the straight jacket he’ll never have to by a limoncello again.
No such Bonkeroonyness about Mrs T. One quick scan of her dear Eldrick’s text messages and it became obvious to her that the old man had gone off course and was currently shooting 11 over-par (on the inward nine anway). Tiger was clearly better with hands than his Gillette chum Thierry was, and had been using them, along with other parts of his body, to great effect.
So Elin did what any woman scorned would have done in the circumstances-, and given the apparent absence of testicle-cutters and a twelve-bore: After the mobile-in-the-gob incident, she asked her caddy for a seven iron and went looking for a couple of balls to thwack about. Tiger drives out-of-bounds and ends up in the long grass. Ian Woosnam was once punished for having too many clubs in the bag. Tiger has been done for having too many bags in a club.
What was he thinking of? At least Silvios many hookers and tarts had the appeal of being 40 years younger than he. But Tigers mob?? Have you seen them?? Soiled old tabbies, many looking like Steve Williams in a frock… Wait a minute !!!!!.
Cats in heat will cry and whine every night this week, but only when you get good into a deep sleep. Ear plugs, sound proof padding and shot guns will be of no use to you. Try not to cut your ears off.
All of your bills will be due on any day you have no money at all. Holding up a liquor store will cross your mind more than once. Steer clear of police cars and news reporters. Your left profile is your best side.
You will be groped by a one-armed midget who is seemingly stuck in the Victorian ages. Buy a miniature bazooka. It packs the perfect punch for a feisty pint size.
Your feet will stink so badly this week that you will lose a couple of friends. Don’t worry, those particular friends talked about you behind your back anyway. You should be happy that you have stinky feet. It helped get rid of bad baggage. However, romance is not in the stars for you.
You will spit on everyone you speak to this week. Don’t be surprised if someone punches you in the nose while screaming the words, “Say it; don’t spray it!” Actions speak louder than words.
All of your shirts/blouses will have holes in the armpits. You will not be raising your hand because you will not be so sure. Try bathing in bleach. If that doesn’t work, wrap yourself in aluminum foil and start a new fashion trend.
Santa Claus is having an affair with the Easter bunny, which means this Christmas season is looking a little grim for you. Everyone is getting laid except you. Don’t listen to any music that has the lyrics, “…I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus.”
Slow down, pace yourself and watch your back. Leave the burgers alone and get your fat ass on a treadmill. You’ll never get into that bathing suit if you keep super sizing it. You’ll probably start drinking or smoking this week, if you don’t already.
All of your coffee will be bitter no matter how much sugar you may add. Hold your breath until you turn blue to see if that changes your perception of taste. At least in the hospital, you’ll have an option of apple juice or orange.
Your computer will crash and your cell phone will die, leaving you dumbfounded to the notion of old school communication. Get reacquainted with the power of the pen. If that doesn’t work, get two Styrofoam cups and a long piece of string. It’ll be a hassle, but a miracle worker.
If you are a naturally born or surgically altered male Sagittarius, all of the zippers in your trousers will stick, exposing your pecker. This may be a good week for late night creeps and unexpected sale prices. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.
Quote of the Week: ”Life is a big ass wheel. What’s down today will be up tomorrow. In the meantime, it won’t kill you to carry around a few extra stink bombs to ease your frustrations.”
I found this song on my music research and I fell in love with the voice of Lovisa Elisabet Sigrinardittir. She is a songwriter from Iceland and has the kind of voice you don’t listen anywhere. It’s different that’s why I like it. It’s not the voice you listen at a pop tv show but the kind you listen at a bar with a bottle of wine and a cigarette in one hand. I think it’s a very sexy music.
Margaret Cho has a couple of projects up her sleeve. She just released her 5th stand-up comedy DVD titled Beautiful and she also has a new TV show titled Drop Dead Diva coming out soon. She doing a lot of work with self-image and female objectification and we are glad she is embarking on something with a message, not that what she was doing previously wasn’t “with a message” but this time it’s more directed at a specific subject. She also has a comedy music album that will feature her parents. We can’t wait to watch both.
Looking to buy some naughty gifts these weekend then check out our ‘Sexy Moneysaving’ page. We have just added lots of new offers from our favourite adult stores including Sextoys.co.uk and Lovehoney offer on Festive Rub A Duckies. Lovehoney 3 for 2 offer information which ends the Sunday!
So click here to go visit the page for full details on all the offers and voucher codes on offer!
“It’s never just me and my partner, there is always some fantasmic element also… If I may be a little bit impertinent and relate to an unfortunate experience, probably known to most of us, how it happens that while one is engaged in sexual activity all of a sudden one feels stupid, one loses contact with it as if to say, ‘My God what am I doing here? Doing these stupid repetitive movements?’ And so on, and so on, nothing changes in reality during these strange moments where I, as it were, disconnect, it’s just that I lose the fantasmic support.”
Why does our libido need the virtual world of fantasies? Why do we need the virtual supplement? Our libido needs this illusion to sustain itself! Freud says its not all about sex but what we are thinking when we are doing that!
Processes of information,
recognition and fornication,
what else do we need?
Memories of my life in Sweden come trickling back with a new strength. I remember not a moment or an event the most; I remember my mind state. I remember what kept me motivated… or distracted if you will. I remember what kept me far from suicide. It was the looking forward that comes with new events. It was the preparation and anticipation, though never to the point of satisification. It was the next episode downloading off of Pirate Bay, it was the close proximity of Swedes doing the same: trying to live, resolving daily problems with a joy in being preoccupied. It was ma mademoiselle Marine and her quickness to shrink my cognitive tension and quickly release my sexual tension. I was in lust for so much libido satisfaction and luckily, I had plenty… ah Sweden! Where my fantasies kept me alive!
I walked out of Kiss&Fly, lit a Marlb with my new gun lighter that makes the trigger puller a victim with a sharp jolt of electricity, jumped in Habibi’s shiny new yellow cab (Nissan), took a short elevator ride up 14 floors, unlocked my front door with my key that never works anytime I return from a night out, and finally, flopped down on zee couch head-first with attire still buttoned up and no intention of budging for at least 6-7 hours. I guess I had no control over my actions at that point; my stomach decided otherwise. I was hungry and was about to begin my journey in the direction of food and since there was obviously nothing edible in my fridge; I was gonna need to hit the streets. The situation reminded me of a quote by John Lennon, “Life is what happens to you while you’re making plans.” A few moments later, I got off the elevator, told Dritan (The current record holder for the most time spent in our lobby aka our front desk friend), “I guess my night wasn’t over yet”, and then set out, ipod playing-ear phones in place, for Market Diner, which was only a few blocks away and always open and ready to serve me (I love and appreciate them dearly). As I walked to my breakfast burrito/hash brown maker’s place of business, I began to ponder what I was going to do while sitting alone at an otherwise empty booth. Before I could find a solution to my future loneliness, I was half way up the front steps to the joint and had already scoped out that there were only 2 tables being used for business. The first table to the left of the entrance was occupied by two gals who looked like they had ten too many fruity drinks that night and were never going to make good conversation let alone accept a stranger off the street to join their table, and, for shits sake, if they had, I would have probably been the one to remove myself from the table first. The second booth to the right of the 24/7 sign was being sat on by two gals too, except these two grabbed my attention so after shaking the owners hand and walking downstairs to take a much needed piss, I walked back up the stairs from the ladies room and sat down with them. At this very moment, the two very beautiful Irish non-men were starring at me as if I had just sat down at their table. Pause. In happyland, I would have been greeted with hugs and kisses and been told that everything was going to be alright. This wasn’t happyland. Play. Instead, I was greeted with a set of cold shoulders from two ladies who were quick to begin talking to themselves in a type of body language that was somewhat familiar to me. They were communicating the words, “Who the fuck is this guy and I hope he doesn’t think he’s going to sit here with us.” The first words that came out of my mouth were, “My name is Kurshot and I figured it’d be nicer to sit with you two than by myself over there (pointing to a booth in a dark corner), I hope you don’t mind. Sooo… what are your names?” The first Cailín (Irish girl) responded in a heavy Irish accent, “Vickie” but didn’t look at me and the other responded with a lighter Irish accent, “Lynda” and was starring right at me as if she was trying to scream, “Who the fuck do you think you are… because YOUR NOTHING!” I smiled and responded, “Well, it’s nice to meet you. I just left Kiss&Fly. I’m a promoter there and other venues around the city.” Victoria tells me that they just came from there. From the second my ass hit that booth, I had a feeling I knew them so when Vickie told me they came from Kiss, I began to put 11 and 11 together and assumed I had saw them there. I said, “I think I saw you there.” They wanted to know where in the venue exactly. I told them outside when I was smoking a cigarette. Like twins, they both said at the same time, “NOPE” and immediately after that, Lynda looks over at Vickie and says clear and loudly, “See, they’re [Promoters] all fucking liars!” I was feeling confident and decided not to get defensive. I was going to let the situation work itself out so I ignored the comment. In some twisted way, I was beginning to feel more comfortable with the situation but I still didn’t feel “comfortable”. This next part is my life saying on cue, “Did you think this was going to be easy?” So just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, a Dominican guy walked up to the table and sat down next to Lynda. He was obviously meeting them there. At that point, I was thinking to myself, “Ohh yaa! This is going to be fun now.” …To be continued…
Really quickly, I just want to inform you people on a great read.
The Ultimate Guide to Cunnilingus: How to Go Down on a Woman and Give Her Exquisite Pleasure by Violet Blue
That book is a great read. It teaches more than just where to put your tongue. Its an anatomy lesson, its an etiquette lesson, its even a healthy dieting lesson. Even though I read it I still go back for references. Violet Blue ( www.tinynibbles.com ) really knows her stuff. You should follow her on Twitter.
So ladies, don’t thank me…well do still thank me, and thank her.
Follow me, so I can call the cops on you!
www.twitter.com/hittingcorners
There was a saying that a woman could tell what makeup still they were. The type of colors that would describe their natural sassy colors.
Shapely Shades Ladies who prefer sunglasses with straight lines or geometri shapes love classic style. Warm hues blended together with colored eyeliners to accentuate natural beauty.
simply line eyes in Navy eyeliner
smudge with Navy Blue mineral eye color
Apply a warm and unique eye color like a light intense color all over the eye and at the corners and blend a medium shade in the eye crease to add depth.
Super-sizers Bold trendanistas who love to step outside the box are drawn to oversized trendy frames or navigator styles. Try a smoky eye with purple shades like Dusty Lilac and shimmery shades like Cinnabar and Chocolate Kiss make for alluring eyes that’ll capture attention by the bat of your eyelashes.
In case you haven’t figured it out already, I like to talk about sex. Inevitably, while talking about sex, the question, “How many people have you had sex with?” comes up. I never know what answer to give.
It’s not that I don’t know how many people I’ve been intimate with. I’m pretty sure I can rattle off a list of everyone I’ve kissed in chronological order. It’s just that I am still figuring out what I define as sex.
As of now, I’ve come to a few conclusions:
I think fucking is sex. Penis in vagina is sex. Dildo in vagina is sex. Anal sex is sex.
I think oral sex is sex. I don’t care if teenagers say they are saving themselves for marriage and a blow job doesn’t count. For me, oral sex is the most intimate of sex acts. That intimacy, to me, is sex.
Other than that, I haven’t decided. One of my friends says it’s sex if you orgasm, but that would mean a lot of married women with children aren’t having sex. Is it sex if it feels good? Where do you draw the line between “fooling around” and having sex? Where do you draw the line between touching and fucking?
I want to know what you think. What do you consider “sex?” I’ll add more later, but I want to hear what other people have to say because my opinions might sway your comments.
Or did whoever say “If you think you’re having sex, you’re having sex” have it all figured out? (Also who was that? I thought it was Alix Olsen, but I can’t seem to find it in any of her lyrics. Was it the Athens Boys Choir?)
Isn’t it funny that I love this sound . . . tap tap tap its the sound my little keyboard makes on my laptop. I work PC doesn’t make this sound its like a click click click a heavier sounds to my laptop.
Its almost music to my ears the more I am tapping the more I am writing, I have not idea to why I enjoy writing but I do and its only more enjoyable with this sound lol.
Today I went to my first and most likely my last naughty knickers party. Talk about a total waste of my time and a bit of life that I will not get back! It’s odd all the ladies that were there were complaining about the lack of “action” that they were getting from their partners or the lack of partners, but man did they spend up the average sale for each lady was around $330.
I, as I normally do just watched from the corner of the room listening to all the stories watching and taking it all as my own form of entertainment. Thinking wouldn’t this be an interesting day in a my for my book. Not that I would think any of the complaining ladies would be very happy if I was to air their dirty laundry. My friend that had invited me had been talked into having one of these parties was sitting next to me pretty much doing the same. We looked at each other and had a quite giggle together. We mind you were the only two that didn’t buy anything.
So after I returned home I sat down to a nice room temperature red wine and snuggled into the side of my hubby and began to play my favorite sound; which brings me full circle to the start of I love the sound of tap, tap, tap .
Purushottam Mahajan was physically and mentally abused by his wife, he has videotapes of about 60 days of abuse, many men do not even have this evidence, some of them suicide!. The Police has not yet taken action on Purushottam’s complaint against spousal-abuse, even after 2 years of his complaint to various police and other authorities.
Indian Men are leading a troubled and stressed-out life and as per National Crime Records Bureau, almost 75000 men committed suicide in 2006. This is almost 80% more than women who have committed suicide (app. 42000). The age-wise break up is as follows:
Table : Suicide Statistics Year 2006 AGE MEN WOMEN TOTAL % MORE MEN
14 or less 1194 1270 2464 - 6 %
15 - 29 22757 19459 422161 7 %
30-44 27809 12890 40699 116 %
45-59 17345 6261 23606 177 %
60 or more 6597 2530 9127 161 %
TOTAL 75702 42410 118112 79 %
Source: NCRB Data of 2006 (www.ncrb.nic.in)
Here are the Videos :
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ipPYXcfoqp0
http://www.youtube. com/watch? v=a0UXVvElPMg
http://www.youtube. com/watch? v=bhAhyCmlCRE
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NNSgJ6SUPFo
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Debates and deep thinking always gets me going. Last night over a yummy-tablous miso and noodle soup that I whipped up, a girl friend and I debated ‘forever’. She was shocked when I said that I can’t promise TJ my forever. Her eyes darted back and forth, looking at our new apartment, puzzled. I can promise to love him forever, but I can’t promise to be with him forever. Flabbergasted, she pondered why I would ever get married. Say vows like, “till death due us part.” Can we promise someone forever? Honestly?
I sit in the “no” camp. I can’t promise anything in my life (meaning long term). I’ve learned that. Life shocks me all the time. I also have learned never to say “never”. Kinda the same thing. I was never going to be a vegan- but I am one now. I never thought I would cheat on someone- I did that too. I never would have went out with someone significantly younger than me- TJ is 6.5 years my junior. I never thought I would be with a girl- oops, did that too. You get my point, right? I never thought I would do a lot of things. Life changes. So do I. Lies? Not really, just reality.
We never know where life is going to take us. I want to be with TJ forever. We will get married. I will fight and work for our relationships through thick and thin. I want him to be my forever, but I can’t promise that. Just like I can’t promise to grow old with him. A bus just might run me over tomorrow. Though again, I prefer for that not to happen. I would like to choose TJ to be my forever. Still I never know what curve balls life might throw me (I think Mrs. Tiger Woods is sitting on my side of the fence right now too!).
Remember, there’s a time when you have to bow out. Whether it be affairs, love fading, growing apart, or just a stupid decision. I pray this doesn’t happen for TJ and I, but no one wants it to happen to them. Even the gorgeous Mrs. Woods who ”has it all”. Come on, we’re not living in the 50’s anymore. I’m living in reality!
Life is full of todays. Presents. Nows. I can love TJ today. I can eat healthy today. I can love my job today. I appreciate my normal family. I can be proud of my friends. I hope these things don’t change. Yet I can’t promise anything. Life can’t promise ME anything. I try not to say “never”. Forever is long time too. I hope to be with TJ until my last dying breath. I’ll love TJ forever. That I know. As for today, he is my forever. That’s all I can promise. Today.
I got featured on Fleshbot again. :D The first time this blog in particular was featured on the Sex Blog Roundup byt the lovely Always Aroused Girl. Gracias!!
So, in the spirit of sex blogging, I’m going to blog about sex. It’ll be a nice change, eh?
I was coming home from work the other night, not particularly in the mood for anything other than a nice long snooze. Master was laying in bed, nose deep in the Sookie Stackhouse series of e-books, when I crawled into bed. We spoke of our nights for a bit before Master glanced over at me.
Apparently the Sookie Stackhouse series reads like softcore porn. Master was…aroused, in a passive sense. But of course once I walked in the door, with my curves and female bits that he loves so much, passive throttled into active. With a massive cheeky grin, he began to grope me, his hands kneading my tits, his erection pressing hard into my hips, his throaty chuckle in my ear. I, on the other hand, was trying to find a way out of this. I was so tired, and he wanted sex, and I was tired, but he wanted sex…and every couple knows what I’m talking about. Master, however, wasn’t having this, , having flipped me onto my stomach and climbed on top of me, pinning my little body to the bed with every ounce of his 240lb frame, which is more than twice my own weight. His hands snaked across my body while I squirmed. Somewhere during this my pj pants were pushed down so he could push his hard-on into my butt cheeks. At one point he began nibbling, licking, and sucking my ears. I SQUEALED because it drives me BATSHIT when he licks/bites/sucks my ears. It drives me crazy in a ‘omfggahnodon’teek!” kind of way, but my protests come out as squeals and giggles because it TICKLES.
This…displeased him.
He sat up, paused, then raised a hand, which promptly came crashing down, HARD, on my ass. And so it did for a good twenty or so smacks. Mat has this AMAZING ability to hit the exact. same. spot. with his hands. It’s quite simply amazing and I’m sure his accuracy would astound scientists. I screeched and howled and tried to get away to no avail, because he had my lower half pinned down. I thrashed in pain while he continued to make his displeasure known. He told me he was NOT satisfied by how I dismissed his advances. At all. And so he was going to punish me for it. And he did.
When it was finished, I laid down while my ass smarted (and contemplated whether or not to invoke some more beatings out of him, as the beating I had just received was pretty hot, in hind sight.) A little while later…I decided to do penance. I stripped out of my clothes and (I think it was at his request) I became to give him a blowjob. After a bit of that, he told me to attempt to finish him. Mat doesn’t come easily from blowjobs. It’s a hell of a lot of work on my part, because he requires more friction than my mouth can do for him, but Master commandeth. And so I did. I sucked, licked, rubbed, and made him come, and I swallowed every bit like I always do (not one to spit). I squeezed the last bit out and licked it up. Master smiled, and said I had done fantastic.
I was pleased. :) Sleep followed shortly thereafter.
It’s the weekend though. Master said he would take me to Target tomorrow for some things i need, like a filter for the humidifier since the air is SO dry. And a new cookie sheet, since my raised-side sheet warped like a bitch. I’m also planning on cleaning the house this weekend and putting up decorations, along with Christmas lights. It doesn’t feel like December to me. We need snow.
I also have another entry coming about some crazy issues I experience a couple nights ago. It sucked. :/
I saw an Oprah Winfrey show sometime last month that was about the growing number of women who are consumers of pornography. The show’s guests were normal women who use porn, plus an interview with famous porn star Jenna Jamison.
The general consensus of the guests was that they enjoy viewing porn and erotica, and that it did enhance their sexual activity.
Jamison’s contribution to the show was to talk about her career as a porn film star, and how she has stepped away from being on camera now since she has married and given birth to two babies. She’s still very proud of her film career, but now wonders if she will be accepted by other mothers…and how she will explain her career to her sons when they are old enough to ask.
Seems that, no matter who you are, your past can rear its head and affect your future.
It seems to me that if porn is being used by a couple together to create sexual arousal, it’s OK. If a couple views porn and attempt to mimic the behavior seen, OK. Even if a person is using porn for personal arousal, OK.
My title question used the word “should.” I don’t recommend that any couple SHOULD use porn. I just think that it can work if you both like it. I think that using a text reference such as the Kama Sutra can be just as effective if you want to spice up bedroom activity.
But, what you do in your bedroom is no one’s business but you and your lady.
So I would have never guessed that my cat was interested in eating brownies if I hadn’t walked in on him on the kitchen counter standing over the brownie batch. Despite trying to prove his innocence by giving me the “mom, I swear I didn’t jump up here and eat these” look, I knew he was guilty, mainly because of the little brown crumbs all over his mouth and whiskers. He never asked for any milk with his dessert, however, he did help himself to my glass of non-fat when I turned away from it for a minute. I put my foot down when he tried to steal my humus. He just has no shame, that little guy. What a character.
I will say though, it was pretty funny when he tried to jump from the sink to the toilet with wet paws. He fell flat on his belly on the bathroom floor. That’s what you get when you play in the sink! A word to the wise.
In people news: I still have a senior citizen on a mission to find a loaded man for me. I’m not a gold digger, but I’m so sick of these little boys who don’t know how to treat a woman. No, I don’t want you to just text me after 10 for sex and think that is an acceptable form of intimate interaction after college graduation. Grow up, grow some balls, and stop being so scared of girls. Not saying I want you to marry me, but I don’t want to just be your call at the end of the night. Let’s bring respect back.
It was brought to my attention tonight that I sneeze like a ninja.
Jonathan Littell, who won France’s prestigious Prix Goncourt in 2006 for “The Kindly Ones,” has picked up another prize for the same work — the Literary Review Bad Sex in Fiction Award.
The annual prize was contested this year by literary heavyweights Philip Roth for “The Humbling,” John Banville for “The Infinites” and Paul Theroux for “A Dead Hand.”
The judges praised what they called Littell’s “ambitious and impressive” novel, which was originally published in French.
“It is in part a work of genius,” they said.
“However, a mythologically inspired passage and lines such as ‘I came suddenly, a jolt that emptied my head like a spoon scraping the inside of a soft-boiled egg’ clinched the award for The Kindly Ones.
“We hope he takes it in good humor.”
Littell was not expected to attend the prize ceremony in London.
The award was established by Auberon Waugh in 1993. It is designed to draw attention to the “crude, tasteless, and often perfunctory use of redundant passages of sexual description in contemporary novels, and to discourage it.”
throw all caution to the wind. be ready to fall hard, because as a water sign, you will. good news is, you’ll fall right back into your own depths, taking some welcomed air pockets with you. they’ll tickle you for a little while as you fall asleep, painting smiles on your face, begging you to remember what it was like up in the clouds before they got so heavy they just let you go.
to fall in love with an air sign, know their heat follows only the wind. you, however, once warmed, will stay so for weeks. when you both find yourselves hot, the fog you make will be so thick that no ship, no man, not even god himself can see you through it. till the wind blows you will be the only two beings on this earth. till the wind blows you will dance dances you never learned as if you knew them from birth. till the wind blows your heart will skip seventeen beats at a time. till the wind blows you will forget that you already know what happens next.
when the wind blows, she’ll sometimes sneak flirted glances down at you, and your gaze will be ready, waiting to adore her the same way you always have.
Heute weiß ich nicht, wie ich anfangen soll. Gestern habe ich einen spontanen Besuch bekommen (: und zwar von ihr. Ich war am Anfang völlig überrumpelt und nervös. Aber es tat richtig gut sie zu sehen. Ich habe sie am Nachmittag schon kurz getroffen, aber eher zufällig, beim einkaufen. Also war sie gestern da, sie hat am Anfang meine GQ durchgeschaut und meine Front. Alles war ziemlich chillig, nur ich war sehr nervös . Nachdem sie fertig war, haben wir uns irgendwie auf einen Film einigen können.. Ich, du und der Andere. Den Film hab ich zwar schon über 5 mal gesehen, aber er ist einfach toll . Ich muss immer noch über diesen Film lachen. Auf alle Fälle, war der Film dann irgendwann vorbei und wir wollten noch einen anschauen, aber wie immer konnten wir uns irgendwie nicht entscheiden . Und dann lief der Film, denn wir schon gesehen haben, irgendwie nochmal. War für mich aber eh schon mehr Nebensache. Ich hatte nur noch Augen für sie und dieses riesige Verlangen sie zu küssen. Aber ich habe mich nicht getraut, hatte wieder Angst, dass ich alles zerstöre. Aber nach einer halben Stunde, dachte ich einfach nur noch ans Küssen und sie. Dann habe ich gedacht: “Was kannst du schon verlieren? Jetzt oder du wirst es nie tun.” Und dann habe ich mich endlich getraut. Mein erster Kuss mit ihr. Unbeschreiblich! Ich hatte das Gefühl, dass ich am ganzen Körper gezittert habe. Im Moment, denke ich nur noch an den Kontakt mit ihren Lippen. Es war unglaublich, ich fühlte mich wieder wie ein König oder schon eher wie Gott
Wir haben uns dann nochmal geküsst, dann dachte ich, ich sollte es vielleicht nicht übertreiben.. Wir sind dann noch auf meinem Bett gelegen und haben Händchen gehalten. (Ich hoffe, dass ich das gerade richtig beschreibe.) Irgendwann vor Mitternacht habe ich sie dann zu ihrem Dad gebracht, wobei ich vielleicht erwähnen sollte, dass wir uns noch hinter einem Busch oder was das ist, geküsst haben.
Ich lasse es jetzt einfach auf mich zukommen. Ob es was wird, steht in den Sternen.
So my 4-month old tabby kitten has a new obsession with picking up his toys (or my stray jewelry), and taking it into the bathtub to play. Strange? For an animal who is supposed to be terrified of water, he sure has picked a funny place to play. That’s not the only thing (as he is shitting once again while I write this), he also enjoys going into the shower after I get out. The cat will sit there right outside the shower door and wait for me to finish. As soon as I step out of the shower, he will jump right in and play with the last drops of water. I guess that’s what you get when you find your pet under the hood of your car after an 8-hour, cross-state road trip.
I’m going to transition into my next topic by mentioning a rabies shot. The rabies shot I didn’t make it up in time to take my little guy to go get this morning. Let’s just say it was a long night/early morning, and I had to be at work for 10 hours today.
So there was a strip club involved in my failure to rise at a reasonable hour to drive my cat to the rabies shot before work. There was a strip club and a long walk. A strip club, a long walk, and many people emerging from my past at various bars in 3 different neighborhoods around town.
Now, this was not my first time at a strip club, but I’m hardly a regular. I just find these erotic human watering holes to be very fascinating. People always interest me: personal interactions, the way they stand, talk, drink, dance, etc… For obvious reasons, human beings at strip clubs are just that much more entertaining than they are in more socially acceptable situations.
This particular night, I had a bizarre and uncommon interaction in the midst of all the scantily clad, emotionally barren women. I had an real conversation. I stood at the bar for over an hour talking to a guy in-depth about a topic. We had a full-on conversation…at a strip club. I can’t remember the last time I had a conversation that long with a guy at a regular bar, much less one where I was the most prude looking woman around. In fact, he kept making comments about me getting too distracted while we were engaged in this chat of sorts.
Don’t get me wrong. This was not a discussion about Middle East Peace or Global Warming. (However, he did make a reference to Obama being President when he checked to make sure that I had at least been laid since January.) This conversation included his suggestion that I meet a random stranger at a bar and have wild, passionate sex, and then never speak again. He reassured me though, that he could take me home and do his thing and never speak to me again just as much as he could do the same with the strip club bartender, however, he would feel bad about doing that to me due to my personal profession choice as compared to hers.
Now, this guy wasn’t a complete stranger. I had actually arrived at the strip club with him and 2 more of my male friends just a few minutes prior to us launching into our intense exchange. He was a friend of a friend who I had just met earlier that night. Despite the crude, forward nature of our conversation, there was something about this guy that I found intriguing. He pulled no punches, and was very honest about the way he felt- even explaining how men often take longer to heal after a bad break-up than women do. This apparently kind of accounts for why they exhibit whorish behavior at times.( Funny, all these years I thought it was nothing more than a combination of testosterone, ego, and boos.) He went on to ask me about how I felt about my body, and what I was looking for in someone else. I again explained to him, as I have with other men, that I am not “looking” for anything. If I was looking for something, knowing that I am an extremely determined individual, I would have already found it in some way, shape, or form. I know what I am not looking for, but I try not to expect to find anything on my own. Situations/circumstances/people tend to find me just fine. I have never been one to search.
That said, and I digress, I am in no way a passive person. I definitely take charge of my life, and I make things happen for myself that I know I want to happen. I just don’t want to base the state of my happiness on my relationships with other people. Do you see the only child coming out in my words? (please nod yes) I am at a point where I am content with myself. Why fuck that up by “looking” for something or someone who would probably only exist in my head? Surprise me people.
A Facebook friend told me about this book and mentioned that I might enjoy it – so I contacted the author and got a copy of the book.
and they sell batches that are mix with a variety of condoms. More importantly it is so easy to purchase online and it is discrete. And the most important of all SHIPPING IS FREE HAHAHAHAHAHA YES. After I got of the phone with my wonderful friend and the wake up call she gave me I found this website I had found it before but didn’t feel the need to order, now I do. I ordered on the 19th of December. I ordered the Trustex Extra Large Condoms. They were $6.00 for 12, not bad with free shipping. They are wide, long and thin and I am looking forward, to using them. Free shipping takes about 4-7 days so I should receive it sometime around the 30th. I won’t be able to use them to some days later. But I will let you guys know if the condoms are good and if the site is really reliable.
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Debates and deep thinking always gets me going. Last night over a yummy-tablous miso and noodle soup that I whipped up, a girl friend and I debated ‘forever’. She was shocked when I said that I can’t promise TJ my forever. Her eyes darted back and forth, looking at our new apartment, puzzled. I can promise to love him forever, but I can’t promise to be with him forever. Flabbergasted, she pondered why I would ever get married. Say vows like, “till death due us part.” Can we promise someone forever? Honestly?
. Nachdem sie fertig war, haben wir uns irgendwie auf einen Film einigen können.. Ich, du und der Andere. Den Film hab ich zwar schon über 5 mal gesehen, aber er ist einfach toll 
